Page 18 of Anything To Be With You

I walk my ass into his office, not even bothering to knock. He waves more papers at me. "Three copies of each."

I take them from him. "Will that be all?"

He slides his mug over to me. "One sugar this time."

I swipe the mug off his desk. "Anything else?"

"Always knock, Daniella," he barks.

"Of course," I answer in a sugary sweet tone.

I’ll knock all right.

Knock him into next week.

I smile and walk out.

One sugar I mock in my head. I’ll give him one fucking sugar; I’ll spit in his damn coffee. I drop the new papers on my desk and head into the breakroom. I pour a fresh cup and walk back into his office, placing his mug on his desk.

"Where are my copies?" he demands, taking a sip of his coffee. Those ice blue eyes roam over my body slowly, like a soft caress.

I’ve heard of people getting eye fucked, but I have never experienced it. Until now.

Areas of my body I thought were long dead are waking up. My temperature rises to an unbearable level. My mouth dries and a bead of sweat rolls down my back. A man has never looked at me this way. However, it doesn’t last long, and a shield slides back into place, turning them from lust filled to ice cold. Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe it’s just first day jitters.

"Getting on that n—now," I stammer over my words and rush out.

I grab the papers off my desk and walk the ten steps to the left of my desk into the alcove where all the supplies, copier and printer are kept and start making copies for his royal Majesty. I’m almost finished when the copier starts blinking at me.

Son of a bitch.

Out of ink.

I grab my chair and wheel it over. Standing on it and praying it doesn’t slide out from under me, I stretch up to grab the ink cartage.

Fuck, too short.

"Thanks for the short genes, Mom." I mutter.

"Need help?" I turn to find Mark standing next to me.

"Please. I’m too short to reach the ink cartage," I answer.

He helps me off the chair and grabs the cartage. Even changes it for me too.

"Thanks. I take it not many short people have worked here."

Mark laughs as he hit the start button. "You are the first. How’s your first day going?" he asks.

I met Mark this morning. He’s a child support and custody lawyer.

"Archer is a demanding asshole," I answer.

Mark chuckles, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He is. But if you’re ever in a bind, he’s got your back," he says.

I don’t care about that; I just care about not being treated like a piece of shit.

Mark’s hand slides down my back and he shoots me a wink as he heads back to his office which I now realize faces the alcove. Nice guy, but handsy. I haven’t decided if it’s creepy yet but it’s definitely not warranted.

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